I'm Not Complaining, but...



I never thought I would be one to whinge about being pregnant. After all, I know how fortunate I am not just to to be able to get and stay pregnant, but to have had an identical twin pregnancy which (so far) has gone pretty smoothly. Sure, there was the all day nausea and vomiting, but both myself and my babies have stayed healthy - there haven't been any scares or midnight runs to the hospital. At very appointment I have, I tell the midwife how lucky I feel.

BUT...

This heavily pregnant thing is getting to be quite the struggle. As I leave the second trimester I am the size of a full term woman that is carrying one baby. I still have two months left until my c-section unless they make the decision to make an early appearance. Obviously, I hope they don't - the longer they stay in there the healthier they are going to be and the less time they'll need in neonatal care.

The truth is though, the last 3 weeks have been... lets just say 'trying'. It started with incredible breathlessness, to the point that I felt like I was going to suffocate when I went up the stairs or to get a cup of tea. This made sense when it was found that I have developed anaemia, after being told to only take iron tablets twice per week as my levels were originally pretty high at 10 weeks.

I have another blood test last week, and I am starting to feel less groggy - so time will tell if I have managed to recuperate those all important HG levels.

While the whole feeling of suffocating thing seems to be easing up, the rib and hip pain is well and truly setting in. Leaning on anything seems to set the rib pain off, which makes chilling on the sofa substantially more miserable than it used to be. Going to bed at night is a source of dread - getting comfortable an almost impossible task.

The there's all the other stuff - the aching and stiff joints by the end of the day, the pregnant waddle, the mood swings, the forgetfulness. It seems that over the last few weeks all those pregnancy niggles which I had so far avoided have hit me like a tonne of bricks.

BUT...

With every grumble I make, every heavy sigh, every complaint, and most definitely with sitting down to write this post, comes an overwhelming feeling of guilt. I am so fortunate to have come this far. I never imagined in a million years that I would get to 27 weeks with identical twins, at least without some complications, if at all. We chose names for the babies at 15 weeks, not knowing at that point if they were boys or girls, because I wanted them to have names in the eventuality that they didn't make it.

Each pain, ache, day of nausea and sleepless night is worth it to keep these little boys healthy and thriving in my belly.  Sure, some days are harder than others to stay cheerful and that's OK. With the third trimester just a week away, I need to remind myself that every extra week or day that they stay in there is a blessing and not to be taken for granted.


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